


It's something unpredictible, but in the end it's right (I hope you'll have the time of your life)

by KayleighMcCamyo



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Ashton is useless, Babysitting, Calum is stupid, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Luke is clumsy as fuck, M/M, Swearing, but michael doesnt give a fuck, so Michael is the only one who can take care of a baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 16:11:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5672128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayleighMcCamyo/pseuds/KayleighMcCamyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 5SOS boys are babysitting a real life, small, fat, tiny, cute, little, useless, defenceless, and adorable baby. Oh dear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Fucking jerks,” Michael swears under his breath.

Literally how could they be stupid enough to offer babysitting? They are fucking rockstars, not grandmas! Well, aside of Ashton, he’s the grandma of all grandmas, with all the “have you eaten? Are you hungry? Have you left your room today? I love you, go to sleep early” bullshit. Pff. He’s so pathetic, Michael hates him. But seriously, how could they just assume they are mature enough to take care of another human, yet alone one that doesn’t know how to do anything by themselves!?

“Mikey I-!”

“Hey, I don’t care,” Michael says. “That’s it.”

“Look, I didn't want to offend you or make plans without you or anything, they just needed help and I was-!”

“Oh dear lord, calm your tits, baby mama,” Michael laughs. “You know I don’t really give a fuck about babies. I need some time for myself, so unless all three of you fuckers die, I’m not going to take care of the thing. That’s it. I’m not mad. Just don’t let it cry all the time, will ya.”

Ashton nods. It’s fair, really. It was just… emergency. Ashton, as a good friend he is, told the baby's parrents he and his friends have free weekend and hopefully three people (well, he said four) would be enough to take care of their few months old. Well.

“Okay, that sounds fair. Are you... gonna be alright? You know you can come to us for cuddles whenever you want, yeah? The baby won’t steal all the attention, I promise you are still my most favourite child-!”

And with that and a giggle he runs off of Mikey's room as there is a pillow thrown after him. Ashton has some reflexes already, of course he was quick enough, so the pillow just harmlessly bumps into the wall and with a quiet thud it falls to the ground. Michael actually smiles at the maniacal laughter he can hear through the house. What a weirdo.

Drummers, huh. 

Michael stands up and closes the door to his room, ready to take a nap maybe, or to watch a movie. He ends up just scrolling tumblr while listening to The Black Parade album. His thoughts are carried away a bit and suddenly he realizes he’s writing few sentences that are actually a poem without the enters. He plays with the words and synonyms and turns few clichés into allegory, then he scrolls tumblr some more, promptly ignoring the inbox notification. He just doesn’t feel like talking to people, one way or another.

He’s fine, relaxed, he actually forgot about the world for few hours. He stands up, thinking about a movie he’d put in to watch. Maybe he could ask the boys to join in, but probably not. He is still moody and still kind of feels like writing, so he just makes a beeline to the toilet and-

“Look, oh my god! Giggling, I swear to god, the giggles. It sounds just like Ashton!” Calum cries happily over the weird baby sounds. “Aww, the baby’s got eyes like you, too!”

Someone should explain to Calum how genetics work, because Mike is sure as fuck Ashton and the baby have nothing in common, aside of the need of being in the centre of everyone’s attention. Michael almost forgot about all the baby situation and for a second he is really mad at the boys for not asking him, because maybe if they did, Michael would actually offer his help too, but now he’s just annoyed. He closes himself in the room again, choosing to play Call of Duty. And he gets lost at it for quite a time again, but the baby thing stays in his mind this time, mostly because he hears it cry.

But Michael doesn’t care, no, not really. It’s their responsibility, not his. They said they’ll be fine. They said they can do it. Michael doesn’t care. No. He doesn’t. There is a crying baby and three fucking idiots and he doesn’t care that the baby is crying and he occasionally hears the boy’s helpless shouts and agonized coos at the crying devil. Michael is glad he isn’t involved. He really doesn’t have nerves for all this crying and cooing. Nope, definitely not for him. Not for me! Huh, the next album he lists on Spotify is Apocalyptic love. Slash’s solos are just legendary.

In the pause between songs he can hear the baby crying, and the boys losing their shit. Michael rolls his eyes, playing a game isn’t an option anymore, he isn’t feeling it. He tries to scroll tumblr and he even answers few messages, tries out twitter, but logs off immediately. He sets his headphones aside and breathes deeply in and out. He doesn’t give a fuck about what’s happening downstairs.

No. He doesn’t.

He tries Fallout 4 and hopes the new game will get him out of his mind (although he misses someone whom he would get out of their clothes), but he can still hear the baby crying, Luke talking and Ashton bossing everyone around. Or is it Calum crying...? Sounds the same.

No, Michael doesn’t give a single fuck.

For like seven minutes. Then he stops the game, puts the headphones aside and goes down (a bit swinging) to the livingroom, which was turned into a provisional nursery. He takes the crying baby from Ashton and holds it to his face. A baby, huh. Little, fat, useless and right now annoyed. Michael tries to look into the baby’s eyes, but it’s still crying. Annoyed, huh. Scared of a new place? Michael knows that feeling, so he just holds the baby to his chest, it’s head to where he feels his own heart beating. He holds on tight and the baby sniffs for a moment, but eventually calms down. It’s not asleep, but after few minutes Michael just lies it back on the moveable crib. For a moment the baby looks like considering whether to cry or smile or sleep, but when Michael reaches for a pacifier and places it into its mouth, the storm seems to be over. Michael doesn’t say a word and runs back into his mancave.

Fucking babies. Michael just doesn’t care, okay. He needs some time for himself, not to talk to people for few days, just chill, not to babysit alongside with his three stupid bandmembers an actual toddler. Why is this happening. Mikey is such a good dragon.


	2. Chapter 2

Michael settles for Fallout again. There is silence among the house and Michael eventually gets back to the thing he started writing few hours ago, adding up some more, deleting one verse, replacing few words so they would rhyme. It’s not bad, but there’s missing something. He can’t quite-

“There we go, changed nappy.” Michael hears through the door. Well at least one thing Ashton can do right. “Cal, how... eh, can you find he milk?”

Michael realizes the baby’s not crying, so he really has no reason to care. The fat, small, useless baby with no teeth and crying as an only comunicating option, is calm and quiet, so probably happy, and there is no need for Michael to be aware of it. It just needed a nappy change, a bottle of milk and a nap. How pathetic. Michael has never been a baby, he was born with all teeth, emo fringe and a guitar in his hand.

“Luke, that’s not how you hold a baby, oh my god...!”

“It’s too hot, Ash, wait.”

“Oh dear, y’all useless.”

They have so much in common with the baby, Michael sees. Then the baby starts to cry again and Mikey hears Ash complain about how it doesn’t want to drink it. Then Luke saying something about heating the milk up more, because it’s cold again. Michael leans back to his chair. He doesn’t care. Not a little bit. Not at all.

“Shh, dear, please, just drink it? C’mon, baby-bear, drink it for uncle Cal?”

Michael wants to slap his best friend. The high-pitched voice is almost as annoying as the evil small thing in this house. Literally, what had Michael ever done to deserve this. He’s such a nice dragon.

He sighs heavily and after another series of Calum’s weird noises that dishonours the English language he stands up and leaves his mancave to find the rest of his band in the kitchen. Ashton again looks like he wants to say something, but he gets no chance. The baby is taken away from him and so is the bottle, that is warm enough, but they obviously need a trick or two to make the baby drink it. Michael reaches up to the cupboard, takes a small bottle of forest honey and dips the tip of the bottle pacifier into it, then places it to the baby’s lips.

It fucking works. The baby is quiet and drinks hungrily, Mikey makes three pauses for breathing and when the bottle is almost empty, he hands the toddles back to Ashton. He then takes a bottle of water from the fridge for himself and goes back to his room.

And that’s about it. He won’t help the morons anymore, okay. He won’t. It’s their responsibility, not his. He just came here tonight to have fun and honestly...! He sits down and gets back to Fallout, but turns it off after a while. The baby is silent, he can hear Luke in the shower, Ashton in the kitchen and Calum is probably with the little devil, because he can hear some incoherent weird cooing noises. Dear, the boy can’t even coo at a baby. He is so useless. Michael needs to teach him, before he startles the kid and it starts screaming again – and yup, there it is again, the baby’s crying. Or Calum, Mike can’t tell, they sound almost the same. High-pitched voice, annoying and with no hair, Calum on top of that smells of New Zealand. Oh dear, the sound is agonizing. Why the hell babies cry for attention. Can’t they fucking mime or use sign language?! Why the hell are they screaming. Michael could do that too, but that would lead to misunderstandings, scared Luke, laughing Calum and swearing Ashton, probably. What a beautiful Friday evening. It’s been ten minutes. Ugh. Michael should go down there and create peace again.

No. No, he can’t. He promised to himself he won’t help them with the kid anymore, because he doesn’t give a fuck.

For like four and a half minute.

Shit.

Michael sighs deeply and leaves his room again. He follows the murdeous screaming and he sees why. Luke is trying to calm the kid down. Oh dear, Luke can’t even tie his own shoelaces, yet alone to hold a baby. Michael looks around but doesn’t see anyone, so he just takes the baby from Luke and presses it against his chest. Few seconds, and it’s all good. Michael breathes out, relieved at the sound of silence among the house again.

“You are really good, you know,” Luke whispers.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Michael holds onto it’s small body and gives a rhythm to the patting of its bum.

“Seriously, Mikey. I had no idea you can take care of a baby,” there is genuine admiration in Luke’s voice that Michael can’t help but blush deep shadow of pink. 

 

“Fuck off, Luke,” Michael says, but there’s no heat behind those words.

The baby is quiet and when he places it into the crib, the kid’s fast asleep. Michael doesn’t even look at Luke and leaves the living room. He swears that was the last time he went there and helped them. Definitely the last fucking time.

“Mikey?” Ashton stops him before he can hide in his room again.

Michael doesn’t want to talk about any baby stuff, he doesn’t want to see the baby and he doesn’t care about the fat, weird, small evil in human disguise. Ish. He doesn’t care about babies. They are stupid and useless and ugly.

“I made you dinner. Thank you, you know,” Ashton has enough dignity to feel ashamed. He definitely took a bigger bite than he can swallow. He had no idea babies are so much work.

Michael shrugs and follows Ash to the kitchen. When he sees homemade spaghetti, he melts a bit. “Thanks.”

“Hm. Where did you... you know, how’s that you can... you know, you have a way with babies?” Ash wonders.

Michael shrugs. He knows how to take care about useless small dependant human-babies. He’s been dealing with Luke since year 9. “I don’t know. Intuition?” he bids.

Ashton hums in agreement but his thoughts seem to be elsewhere. Sadly Michael sat down to the table so he can see the crib, the baby and the other baby. It’s fine, because Luke just stands above the crib and occasionally caresses the baby’s cheek or temple. It’s worse when Calum comes back. He’s half naked, still a bit wet on the base of his spin and the small of his back. He bends down to the crib and takes the baby into his arms. It was awake, yes, but Michael has a feeling the toddler’s not going to like it. And he’s right, the baby starts sniffing, so Cal puts it back down, but the damage was already done. Michael watches Ashton as he tries to do the same trick Michael did earlier, but it’s not working. Michael feels almost proud of the kid. Calum tries the horrible cooing and yup, Mike was right about this one too, the toddler doesn’t like that whatsoever. Michael actually smiles into his plate. He finishes his dinner and purposely leaves the plate on the table.

“Husband,” he addresses Ashton. “Go back to the kitchen.”

Ashton wants to say something, but he doesn’t. He hands the crying baby to Michael and he just holds it infront of his face. They look each other in the eye and the toddler calms down again. Michael cuddles it close to his chest and holds it tightly, patting his bum through the nappy. He then sets the baby back to its crib and leaves for his room. He decides to take a shower, long, hot and full of steam, but the second he hears nothing but streaming water, bumping on the plastic bottom of the shower, he gets nervous. He has no idea why, because he doesn’t care about the baby. He literally doesn’t give a fuck. It’s his stupid band’s responsibility, not his. He said so, Ashton agreed to it. He seriously doesn’t have a single fuck to give about stupid babies.

Except for, he does. He showers quickly and leaves the bathroom in record time, but there was no reason to. The baby is fast asleep, at least that’s what Calum just said to everyone listening. Michael tries to get back to his gaming or interneting, but his senses are alarmed and he’s waiting for the sound of awakening baby, that needs a nappy change or wants to play or what he fuck babies do.    
  


Mikey is annoyed. He was supposed to spend this weekend alone, maybe in Ashton’s arms, if the boy is willing, but probably Calum’s and Luke’s, too. He likes their cuddles, but he secretly admires Ashie’s cuddles the most. Maybe it’s because it doesn’t happen so often. Ash isn’t into all this platonic affection like the rest of his band. And yet here he is, wondering if the baby is silent because it already died in his friends’ care or it’s actually fine and just asleep.

He gets his answer within minutes in a form of crying. Different again, it sounds sad and maybe scared. Could have been a dream or maybe it wants attention. Michael is waiting. He doesn’t even pretend he is playing a game or scrolling tumblr, he can’t even focus. It takes him fifteen minutes to give up and leave his room again. Ashton seems relieved the second he sees him, so Michael does a beeline for the baby and hugs it close to his chest, but this time it’s not enough, it keeps crying. Quieter, it doesn’t scream so much, but it really looks scared. Michael tries a pacifier, and it works again, the baby stays startled and afraid, but it seems to be calming down. Michael smirks to himself and hands the baby back to Calum. But he only makes it upstairs and the baby cries again. Michael sighs deeply and comes back, and the baby stops immediately, when it’s placed into Mikey’s arms. He tries to set it down to his crib, but the toddler cries again, so Michael stays with for couple of minutes, gives it a toy and then hands it over to Calum. Baby is having a toy and Calum, so it doesn’t notice Michael is gone. But when it does notice, the whole neighbourhood knows. Michael sighs in defeat, goes back downstairs, takes baby, a toy and a pacifier and goes to his room.

Literally why. He is such a nice god.  

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

A baby, huh. Michael holds the small fat thing infront of his face and he finally eyes it closely. It’s weird, he decides. It’s still crying, probably scared of another place.

“Hey there,” Mikey tries to speak. He keeps his voice causual, maybe a bit deeper, slow and fluffy. He shakes the baby a bit to see its reaction the baby makes a weird sound, probably considered as happy. “What’s up, lil noodle?”

Huh. He shakes the baby a bit again and it puts its fist into its mouth.

“Wow. Talented,” Michael observes.

It kicks its tiny uneven feet and giggles. Michael cocks his head to the side and shakes with the baby again. Then checks the floor. “No money shaking off of you. Then what are you good for?”

The baby giggles happily, kicks its feet and puts both of its fists into its mouth. Well, it tries, doesn’t work out. But the little thing giggles again and spits all over its chin.

“Disgusting,” Mikey murmurs and reaches for a clean napkin, but he catches himself smiling at the toddler fondly. “You are so useless.”

Baby giggles and tries to reach for Mikey’s face, but it finds his hair instead and pulls on it, hard.

“Oi, ain’t ya a bit young for kink development?”

The baby giggles and a stain of saliva escapes its mouth again. “Oh dear, look at you. The most disgusting thing ever.” 

  
  


The baby seems to be having a fucking blast.

"What to do with you, eh. I don’t really have toys here. I mean, I can get you my favourite toy, but you didn‘t seem to be fond of Ashton that much."

The baby puts both its hands on Mikey‘s face and it was probably just bracing itself in his arms, but then it stares into Michaels eyes. Michael is mesmerized by the baby’s eyes. Calum was right, they look similar to Ashton’s. They are greenish, with blue orb and amber by the middle. It’s looking at him with wonder of thousands worlds, and it’s so soft and small and… Michael cant pretend he doesn‘t care anymore.

„Okay, okay. You are cute as fuck.“

The baby isn't giggling anymore, it’s looking at Michael with big eyes and calm expression. It makes a baby noise and it falls to Michael‘s chest.

„Oh dear god, you are the cutest fat, useless baby I’ve ever seen,“ now it’s Michael, who’s smiling like an idiot.

 

„Can you speak? I dont know when babies develop talking skills. Say chlamydia. C‘mon, fat, useless baby, say chla-my-di-a. I just want Ashton to be happy you learned his name as your first word, haha."

The baby starts rambling in its own language and Michael couldn‘t agree more: "Same."

The laughs at his own remark.

"You are just like me after four pints. I can do that baby talk too, but sadly, this house is run by Mama the Chlamydia Bad Drummer, so no more than four fruit beers in our fridge at a time."

Baby rambles some more, but seems to be tired.

“Oh, okay. I have to put you back for sleeping, you know? You probably need to sleep there. Hm? Do you? You should. Also you should drink some tea – you are a british baby. Drink your tea, before the bad american people hunt you down into a harbour, haha. Kidding, I don’t know anything about history. For some reason I only remember unimportant stuff. Like all the chords for the entire of American Idiot. As of the album, not only the song…” 

 

The baby giggles and kicks its legs again. Michael takes a hold on its tiny feet and looks into its eyes again. The baby stares back at him, silent and pliant and vulnerable. “You’ve got your papa‘s eyes. And your dad’s attitude,“ Mikey smiles. „Oh dear, you are a british baby in LA. Lord, have mercy.“

Michael sits the baby down on his bed. „Did you know your dad and your uncle Ashton… but well, even british babies are too young to hear this.“ 

 

The baby is able to sit for a while, but then falls to its side and laughs to it. Michael can see why  people love children. It’s annoying as fuck, and oh dear, the nerves, but… Michael watches the baby trying to either sit or lie down properly.  The baby giggles and Michael shakes his head.

“What am I supposed to do with you here, hm? No GTA for you, no beer, no guys, no girls… no tumblr… hm. Now it seems like I don't have any nonsexual hobbies, right. Actually,” his eyes flicker to his guitar standing in the corner. “I was working on a thing, hm? You wanna hear? It’s… how old are you?“

The baby stares at him with toothless grin. Michael almost can’t stomach how cute that is. „Stupid fat baby.“

Michael stands up and takes his guitar. “Have you ever been in Tokyo?”

The baby doesn’t answer.

“Rude,” Michael says. “This one is... you know the feeling when you know something big is happening, like a big change into your life, yeah? Like when... like when you see the storm coming, but as of... a good thing. Like you are so overwhelmed you don’t even know how to react or what to say. Like there is just too many things going on at the same time? I mean… have you ever been in a place that basically was like a fucking dream to you? Like entering a fucking paradise. Like reaching Nirvana – the buddhistic one, not the Cobain one. But hey, maybe there’ not such a difference, huh? They both died after giving the best to the world, didn’t they.”

Michael shuts up for a second. He’s literally talking to a four months old baby. On the other hand, it’s not like it will tell anyone. Michael’s fingers slowly swim through the strings, chasing the right chord to start.

“The feeling of eternity, something uncatchable but still mine. Like I was infinite but ready to die and… like I was set. For the… first time in my life, I didn’t question myself. Like, I just accepted my… myself. Not scared, not afraid, not second guessing. You know how that feels? I’m pretty sure your papa is going to tell you the same story, only for him it was London and your dad.

For me it was Tokyo and Ashton. I... I don’t really have a name for it, and I was struggling to find words, too, because it’s not easy to describe falling in love. I’ve been working on it for like a year, you know. Don’t tell your uncle Ash. It’s a secret.”

The baby rambles and kicks its feet, but when it hears Mikey’s guitar, it stops making noises, it calms down and Mikey swears the baby is listening.

“Most of my life, I sat on my hands, I don't make a sound

Getting it right, I made all my plans, lost, never found

Your eyes, your smile can light up the night, night

Embers and neon signs paint up our sky, sky

Airplanes cut through the clouds

Like angels can fly, we'll never die

Sirens cut through the night

Like screams set on fire, rising up higher

I've got something to prove, nothing to lose

In this city, in this city.

All of this time, I questioned myself, I never could wait

Looking for signs, not asking for help, I know it's too late

Love lost and buried here, it comes to life, life

Make believe worlds make us all feel alive, live.”

Michael sings the last line vey quietly, the baby fell asleep. And suddenly, he himself feels very sleepy, too. He sets the guitar aside and lies into his bed to his back, guarding the baby between himself and the wall, a hand on its tummy so he feels it breathe, but after few minutes he takes the little cute thing into his arms and cuddles it into his chest, making sure it’s safe. Before he falls asleep, he kisses the baby on its temple.

“Airplanes cut through the clouds

Like angels can fly, we'll never die

Sirens cut through the night

Like screams set on fire, rising up higher

I've got something to prove, nothing to lose...”

He falls asleep before he finishes the song. The thing he didn’t know about was Ashton, leaning against the wall next to the door to Mikey’s room which he left ajar, who listened to every word Mikey has said to the four months old. The emotional fire inside him won’t fade into gray for a long time. He and Michael surely need to talk, but for now, Ash enters his room, quietly bends down over his sleeping guitarist and kisses his temple, then the back of the little princess’s head.  

 

“I love you too, Mikey.” 


End file.
